Let it Snow
by BlackBandit111
Summary: Modern day. Merlin bakes cookies and Arthur wants some, there are terrible jumpers, and Christmas dinner is just out the window. Fluffy Merthur.


_Hello, Merlin fandom! Haven't posted something for a little while now, but couldn't resist. I know it's set around Christmas time, but bear with me here, yeah? Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin, will never own that magical show nor its amazing cast... *sighs*. Oh well. _

_Read on and I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

The air was heavily scented with the pleasing smell of chocolate and sugar, and Arthur immediately knew that his roommate was baking. Out of the two, Merlin had been gifted with the natural talent in the kitchen, whereas Arthur was better athletically- meaning Arthur would patch the leak in the roof so long as his boyfriend had dinner on the table when he was finished. It was a good compromise.

It also helped that the one day that Merlin and he had gotten into a terrible domestic and Merlin had stormed off with steam coming out of his ears, Arthur had not had a clue as to how to cook the chicken. Merlin got over it pretty quickly, once he had his head in a toilet bowl and forgot about the domestic, instead thinking of Arthur's terrible cooking skills. From then on it was agreed that Merlin was the chef and Arthur was the handy-man in their relationship.

"Merlin?!" He shouted up the stairs, slipping out of his jacket, scarf, and hat and stamping his snow covered boots before sliding these off too, "I'm home! I was wondering- what time did your mum say she was coming?! Was it eight or six?!"

There was no reply, and Arthur took this as an invitation to come forward because of one of three reasons: One: Merlin was pissed at him again for some reason or another and was giving him the silent treatment (like a three year old); Two: Merlin was extremely pleased to see him and was ready to jump out at him from the top of the landing; or three: Merlin was concentrating hard on something and was therefore otherwise occupied. Ascending the steps cautiously, Arthur knew he had to play his cards right, or he could end up with any. There was no telling with his raven-haired boyfriend nowadays.

Walking into their brightly lit kitchen, Arthur felt a smile stretch his lips. Wordlessly he went forward and, over Merlin's shoulder, reached quick fingers into the bowl, snagging some cookie batter.

"Hey!" Merlin attempted to swipe at his boyfriend's fingers, but they were already in his mouth, and so was the tasty batter. Raising an eyebrow, Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Hello to you too," he said, and Arthur furrowed his brows in mock-offense.

"Hey, I said hello; it's not my fault you were so enthralled with your cookie baking that you didn't hear!"

Merlin gave a short laugh, face lighting up. "Sorry, my bad. Trying to get this done for our guests."

Arthur barked out a small laugh, raising an eyebrow and distracting his boyfriend by hugging him from behind. Reaching forward and snagging another glop of the sugary batter earned him a small but firm slap to the back of the head. Indignantly he glanced up to see Merlin grinning; in the light, his sapphire eyes sparkled. Arthur nearly forgot why he was standing there until Merlin went to scratch his cheek and smeared batter there instead.

Not noticing this, Merlin went back to his cookies, adding in chocolate chips and plugging the mixer into the outlet over the cabinet. Arthur kissed Merlin's cheek where the batter had landed, smirking smugly to himself when he noticed the blush that crept across Merlin's cheeks and ears.

"I think you have enough cookies," Arthur remarked playfully, turning his head and eyeing the various trays and tins spread across their kitchen table. All were open and an assumedly different type of cookie, all having multiple designs and shapes. "We don't need Morgana getting any fatter. How many types do you have now?"

Merlin hummed in reply, his brows drawn together and lips pressed into a firm line. The side of Arthur's mouth began to twitch again and he leaned forward, craning his neck to steal a kiss. Merlin blinked and his sapphire eyes flickered to Arthur's crystal before he smiled a little. It was the timid one that he used when concentrating or talking about feelings, and it made Arthur's heart swell.

At his boyfriend's expectant look towards the spinners on the mixer, Merlin unplugged it from the outlet and wordlessly detached the spinners, dropping them in the already filled and slightly cloudy sink.

Arthur's eyes widened and his lips parted as his brows pulled together in outrage. "That's just cruel!"

Merlin grinned, saying, "you're having quite a good amount of cookies-" he slapped Arthur's hand away again, "after dinner. Besides," he said innocently, eyes glistening, "we wouldn't want you getting any fatter, now would we?"

Arthur's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to say something. No words came forth. "B-but that's- you're- you- shut up, _Mer_lin!" He paused before adding, "you're not the one who had to put up with Vivien again all day- she got drunk in public again- and have to continuously hunt down all the ruffians in England!"

Merlin's nose wrinkled. "And of course, they dispatch you, of all people, to go get Vivien? Again? Wasn't it Lance's turn?"

Arthur edged closer to the kitchen table slightly; just a small shift- not enough for Merlin to notice he'd moved but enough to have moved at all. "Lance wasn't in today," Arthur answered, and Merlin reached out to slap away the hand that had been reaching for a sugar cookie as he placed the batter and tray into the oven to bake. Arthur relented for the moment, a never ending fear returning to him that Merlin would one of these days manage to burn himself in his eternal clumsiness.

"No," he responded, watching warily as his friend's hand drew near the hot metal shelves inside the oven, "his other boss was pissed that Lance had two jobs and said that if he didn't see more hours and harder work, Lance would be fired."

Successfully having put in another batch to bake, Merlin brushed his hands of flour, turning to Arthur with furrowed brows and a dismayed glint in his eyes. "He's like a slave trader, that boss of his," Merlin muttered, his hands balling into fists. "Hengist needs to learn that not everything can be according to him."

Arthur was seized yet again by the sheer selflessness Merlin possessed. It was pure and unmitigated concern for his friends, and Arthur asked himself once again what he had done to deserve such a man. Arthur knew that he could never have such a heart of gold that Merlin did. He was selfish.

"It's alright, though," Arthur said with a little smile as Merlin's only darkened, "you can stuff him full of your cookies."

"And spare your belt," Merlin said smartly, earning a shove.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said, rolling his eyes and tightening his hands around Merlin's hips, causing his friend to squirm. Knowing Merlin was endlessly ticklish on his sides, Arthur loosened his hold again, smirking.

"Don't _do_ that," Merlin said firmly, placing his hands over Arthur's where they rested on his hips warningly. Arthur chuckled but nodded, resting his chin on Merlin's shoulder. There was peace for about thirty seconds- then the timer on the oven went off.

They eyed each other for a moment, sizing one another up.

Then they both lunged, battle cries falling from their lips. Arthur wrenched the over door open and Merlin grabbed for the cookie tray with the oven mits on; Arthur growled, running his fingers quickly and playfully over Merlin's sides, causing a (very manly and not at all high pitched) shriek and the tray to tilt in Arthur's direction as Merlin scrambled to escape. He made a mad swipe at the cookies-

only for all of them to go spilling from the tray onto the floor.

Arthur stared, hands hovering over the fallen chocolate chips, mouth hanging open. He turned to an equally wide eyed Merlin with a grimace, wincing inwardly at the scolding that was undoubtedly coming.

Merlin turned his face up to the ceiling, head thrown back as he clenched his fists. "Why do the good die young?!" He wailed dramatically, but the corners of his lips were turned up into a smile.

Arthur thought that if Merlin had not been an Emergency Medical Technician, he'd have been an actor for sure, all cheekbones and personality.

Arthur laughed, leaning back on his hands. "You should clean these up," he advised his boyfriend, jerking his head in the direction of the still warm but now ruined chocolate chip cookies. Merlin raised an unbelieving eyebrow at him before wordlessly picking himself up off the floor, brushing off his jumper and going to the closet in the hall. Arthur's brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed as Merlin returned with a broom and dustpan in each hand, but they widened as he held them out to the policeman.

"You need the exercise," he said flatly.

Arthur was attempting to think of a quick witted response to escape when the doorbell rang. He scrambled from the floor and bolted into the hallway and down the stairs, unlocking the door and throwing it open wide, ignoring the cold that made shivers dance down his spine.

He was met by two smirking young men who moved past him and into the foyer, flinging off their jackets and scarves. "Told you," Gwaine said, pushing his shaggy mane of chocolate hair out of his eyes and brushing some of the snowflakes from his trimmed beard. The taller, more muscled man let out a quiet chuckle.

"What were you two arguing about?" Percival asked, and Arthur grinned.

"Cookies," he admitted to his two fellow law enforcers, in which Percival let out a triumphant "ha-ha!" and thrust his open palm in Gwaine's direction. Gwaine shoved his hand into his pocket and conjured his wallet, handing Percival a crisp twenty to which the other man pocketed with a grin. Arthur's brows furrowed. "...what?"

Gwaine laughed, slinging an arm over his friend's shoulder. "We bet on what all the shoutin' was about," he said, winking at Percival. "Perce here said Merlin had made cookies again, but I said you two were watching telly together."

Arthur snorted. "And now my friends are betting over my boyfriend's and I's domestics," he muttered dramatically, to which Percival slapped him on the back.

"It's not all bad," he offered, and smiled wolfishly at Gwaine, who had a devilish glint in his eyes. "Tomorrow, I'm forcing Elyan to take care of Vivien for you. That should clear things up."

"I was off tomorrow anyway," Arthur said with a glare, and Gwaine threw back his head and laughed.

"Yeah, but that's one less day you have to worry who got her, mate," he replied, and although Arthur couldn't understand it he could certainly go with it.

"Hey, Merlin, you having fun in there?" Gwaine hollered, sitting on the couch once they had climbed the steps to the living room. Merlin poked his head out of the kitchen, broom in hand, and caused the three to roar in laughter again.

"Ha ha, ha ha ha," Merlin droned tonelessly. "Maybe I should just eat all these cookies on my own," he said thoughtfully, placing a hand on his chin and mercilessly smiling as his three friend's faces went completely white.

Arthur, meanwhile, tried not to snicker at the terrible Christmas jumpers that Gwaine and Percival had on. Truly, a knitted dragon of all things with a hat on against a blood red background was suiting. As was Percival's (suspiciously sleeveless) Christmas tree solid green. Glancing down at his own, Arthur couldn't truly blame them. His was red with a white knitted reindeer (Merlin's mother, Hunith, loved to knit) and Merlin himself had a white jumper with a green Santa hat and elf ears poking out, so really, they all looked idiotic together.

The doorbell rang again but the door opened before anyone could answer it, Lancelot rushing in. "She's trying to kill me," Lancelot exclaimed, eyes wide and face pale, "but I promise I didn't do anything, I swear!"  
"Who's trying to-"

"LANCELOT!" There was an inhuman scream that echoed through the house and caused the four men to cringe, "what are you doing without a coat? It's freaking ten degrees outside and you're out without a coat? I'm not your mother, but _honestly!"_

Gwen came storming up the steps, face flushed a pleasant rosy and snowflakes clinging to her long brown locks as she slapped Lancelot in the arm. Gwen was often the voice of reason in the group of men, but wasn't necessarily always polite about it. Her eyes glinted maliciously and there was a snarl spread across her lips. For a petite woman, Gwen was downright frightening.

"I had a coat, honestly- I just forgot it at my desk and realized it when I got here-" Lance said desperately, hands going into a surrendering position. His girlfriend glared at him, hands on her hips.

"So help me, if I find out that-"

"I swear! I swear!"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling slowly and opening her eyes. They lit up once they fell upon the rest of the company and suddenly she was normal, bubbly Gwen again, _not I'm-going-to-rip-your-head-off-and-let-you-bleed-slowly_ Gwen.

"Hello everyone!" She said, stripping her waistcoat and hat, "Happy Christmas!"

They all echoed back, watching with wary eyes as she plopped herself comfortably on the couch and began sipping the coffee she had brought in with her. Merlin seemed to be the one to take the plunge and say, "well. Who wants some floor cookies?"

And Arthur couldn't help his bark of laughter as Hunith's voice floated from down the stairs, "Oh God, what did you boy's do_ now?!"_

* * *

_There it is. My first Merthur fanfiction ever. Please, leave me a comment on your thoughts and...Merry late Christmas? ;)_


End file.
